


watch me disappear into the sun

by icarusandtheson



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 12:16:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17662472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icarusandtheson/pseuds/icarusandtheson
Summary: Alex wraps up a scene and empathizes a little too much with his character.





	watch me disappear into the sun

Washington reaches for Alex’s arm as he tries to shoulder past. “Son --”

“I’m not your fucking son!” Alex snarls, the words wet and thick in his mouth. He pushes back on instinct, something small and trapped at the back of his throat, his hand against Washington’s chest, Washington’s immovable body.

Except he does: move.

He retreats where Alex has only ever seen him hold firm, his brow furrowing in -- shock, maybe, or the disbelieving beginnings of anger at the audacity of Alex touching him, striking him. It feels like jumping a fence marked no entry, the aftermath of that: the scraped palms and bruised knees and the looming threat of consequences, of getting what he deserves.

Alex mirrors him, shifts back a step, then two. The belated realization that this isn’t a fight he could win filters in, makes him ache under old scars and knitted-back bone. The empty street behind him opens up like a mouth, the sidewalk slanting under his feet -- all he has to do is lean back into it and run.

Washington’s gaze drops to Alex’s hands, clenched to fists at his sides, to the wary animal of his body. Alex sees the exact moment he becomes more trouble than he’s worth, the exact moment when Washington’s calculations slide into the red and everything Alex was slowly learning to hold slides out of his hands and onto the sidewalk. In a moment, Washington will move -- his hand will come up, or he’ll turn away, and Alex won’t be able to let go of the image of it for the rest of his life.

He lets go while he still can, lets his body fall into the gaping expanse at his back and bolts. It’s easy, familiar, his body sliding into flight. Out of the corner of his eye, a camera turns to follow his movement. His feet barely touch the ground.  

He knows it’s coming, but he still flinches when their director calls cut, jarred back into a reality he’s not ready to return to. He slows, doesn’t stop, lets his feet work out the surge of adrenaline pulling tight in his throat, his chest.

It’s not right, exactly, he’s moving too slowly for it to be satisfying, but it’s something. He fixes his gaze loosely on the horizon, concrete and asphalt melting into the sky, imagines disappearing into it. He doesn’t; most of these shots will be close-ups, and the last wide shot will still have him centered.

He never disappears, which is what he wants, probably.

Which is why he’s here.  

He stops eventually, puts his back to the horizon and plays the scene out in his head as he makes his way back to set.

The bare bones of it are simple: his character disappears for a while, gives George’s something to worry over until he shows up again, drunk and bruised and needy, right on time for an emotional reunion. Alex is stuck in the unwritten details -- how long he runs, where he hides. How close he is to not coming back at all.

He pulls himself out of it, tries to shed the scared, angry boy who lives in his body these days like he’s just a skin.   

George is talking to the director, his posture straightened out, losing some of the weariness that his character carries, Atlas-like. Alex hasn’t learned it yet, how to be and not be a thing at the same time without either part overwhelming the other.

There’s an itch running up the line of Alex’s spine to stop and stare that he’s mostly learned to ignore -- it sharpens, stings when George catches his eye, his smile brief and proud.

Alex smiles a poor imitation, and ducks his head, and keeps walking.  

 

**Author's Note:**

> *From the Dare to Write Challenge. Prompt 467: the forgotten son.  
> *Thanks for reading! Leave a kudos and comment if you liked it!  
> *Find me on Tumblr at [icarusandtheson](https://icarusandtheson.tumblr.com/)


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